


Haunted

by Deliophobia (Kiss_Shining)



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Age Difference, Canon Compliant, Dragon Ball GT - Freeform, Flash Fic, Fluff, Gen, Implied Romance, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues, No Plot/Plotless, Offhand Fic, Squick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-11-02 10:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20710196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiss_Shining/pseuds/Deliophobia
Summary: Gohan and Videl were out to kill her, and she had no way to escape.





	Haunted

**Author's Note:**

> The more stressed I get is the more I procrastinate and write these, apparently. But I haven’t forgotten about Smriti. Chapter four’s draft has been sitting in the pile of crap, just waiting to be touched. It should be after this one, hopefully. Maybe I'll aim for Wednesday or something. I dunno though, that work isn't going to finish itself sigh.
> 
> But man, these are so much easier and less stressful to write…

Never before had Pan thought her house too small before this moment.

She knew she was dreaming—this couldn’t have been real; she remembered very vividly that Grandpa Goku had saved them all, even turning into his Oozaru form and almost destroying that small planet they were on—but hiding in a cubby hole like this, curled into a tight ball, rocking back and forth, it felt all too real. Her mother’s frigid glare when she slapped her hand away, the sting on her cheek from Grandma Chichi, and her father. Oh, her father was so cruel, and the way that he went after her as if _she _was the enemy, his own flesh and blood. He grabbed her by the front of her collar and the rest of them just watched, and Pan had knew that something was wrong. But this time, Grandpa Goku wasn’t here to rescue her. She was alone.

The first chance she had, Pan ran to the entrance, but she had found it locked and all of the windows firmly sealed. Her attacks did nothing to what should have been a completely pliable door, and desperate, she flew to any corner of the house she could. And then all throughout the night, it became a game of hide and seek. Her father would search for her, find her, grab her, and squeeze her throat until her vision became to darken, and Pan would struggle until she had enough leeway to break off running, find another corner, and hid. Bathroom closets, clothes drawers and spare cabinets she squeezed into, even hiding behind the gap of the fridge. It never took long for her father to find her, but she still persisted. Her life depended on it.

She struggled to keep calm as she rocked, swallowing considerate breaths of air and slowly releasing it through her nose. If she panicked even once, then her father—that monster Baby, who possessed her dear father—would sense her and find her, and then all of this would have been for naught. They haven’t found her yet; it had been over an hour now, and she could still hear their thunderous steps coming closer and fading away, but if she lost control now, there would be nowhere else to go. The three of them already spread themselves out to find her.

Pan heard a creak right next to her door, and her ki spiked for a brief moment, but that single moment was all that was needed for her father to find her. He slid the cubby door open and reached in, grabbing her by her neck, squeezing harder enough until tears rolled down her cheeks and her head became hotter and hotter—

She woke up in a creaky, cold bed, but Pan was sweating. She stumbled out of the sheets, almost tripping over herself to find her parents. Knocking twice, she turned the knob, but it was locked, and she flinched back from the door as if she were burned.

Not even bothering to change her clothes, Pan stumbled back into her room and opened her windows. There were so many people that she loved and that loved her back, but of those people who loved her, those that would let her sleep the night at their place with no questions asked…it was almost nonexistent. They would probably say, “Oh Pan, what happened, dear?” or “It’s so late, don’t you think you should be in bed right now?” They were kind, they meant well, but they wouldn’t take her seriously and they _couldn’t _take her seriously because they were all used by Baby and none of them remembered anything. Everyone except for her, her grandfather, and Vegeta.

Trunks, too. Trunks was originally possessed when the three of them were together, but he fought against it enough that Baby’s hold on him didn’t reactivate for a long time. Even when it had, it didn’t take much for him to remember what happened, and he was one of the few who stayed by her side.

Almost a half a year ago, after she was separated from the two of them, he told her that she could always rely on him if she ever needed anything. They were a team, he said, and they should watch out for each other’s backs even when it was all over.

Pan was going to wager on that right now.

She flew to his house, even more invigorated by the cold that seeped into her thin pajamas and prickled her skin. Within five minutes she was searching for Trunks’ ki, circling around Capsule Corp before hovering above the window where she felt him strongest.

She banged on the door, uncaring if she startled him out of his sleep—a truly deplorable habit of hers, especially since she was asking a favor of him, but it was unfair that he got to sleep all nice and tidy while she was suffering with nightmares—and after the third try, the window whipped open so hard that it almost bounced back shut.

“For the love of god, Pan,” he grumbled irritably, rubbing his temples, “It’s three in the morning. What do you want?”

“Let me stay here,” she said simply, and Trunks sighed.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too selfish? You came here unannounced, and you don’t even—”

“_Please_,” she pressed, and something in her tone made him stop and actually look at her. Maybe it was because her lip was trembling because of the aftereffects of what she woke up from; maybe it was because her shoulders were slumped, the only indication of her fatigue. Whatever it was, it made Trunks reconsider, and he moved to the side, allowing her enough space to pass by him, shutting and locking the window closed behind her. As she slid into his bed, still warm from his body heat, he slid to the floor right next to her, and she immediately sat up.

“What are you doing? You can’t sleep like that.”

“Its fine,” he said, and he was already making himself comfortable, laying on his side. “I’m not really picky about where I sleep.”

“No, that’s not the point. I’m not going to just let you sleep on the floor like that. Get up.” He didn’t move, and she reached down and pulled his ear, twisting it. “I said, _get up_!”

“Okay, okay, fine! Geez.” Trunks slowly stood up, stumbling a little from grogginess, and slowly moved to his closet. “If I set up an air mattress, would it make you feel better?”

“No. Just sleep right here, on the bed.”

He chuckled. “What, and have you kick me in my sleep? I don’t think so.”

“I do _not_ kick in my sleep, you’ve got some nerve,” she retorted snappily, and she lifted the blanket a little bit, beckoning him in. “Now come on, I’m freezing and I’m tired.”

Trunks opened his mouth and then closed it, sighing and shaking his head.

“You’re too much,” he said, but he shuffled his way back and slid under the covers, hovering at the edge of the bed. Ever the doting little girl that she was, Pan snuggled closer to him and tucked the blankets over his shoulders and covered his feet. She flopped a leg over his and sighed in contentment.

“That’s much better.”

“You’re sweating, give me some space,” he complained, but he made no move to push her away, and she took it as acceptance. Neither of them said anything more and Pan was quickly lulled back into unconsciousness. To her relief, she blissfully dreamt about nothing.

When the next morning rolled around, a little after they both woke up and Trunks got them both something to eat—he was perfectly fine with keeping her visit confidential, and she appreciated him for that—he casually mentioned, “You can tell me whenever you want,” and she dipped her head and nodded, embarrassingly touched. She shouldn’t have been; she knew that Trunks would help her anyway that he could, he told her as much and it was what encouraged her to rely on him in the first place, but she was elated anyways. He helped her, even when he knew that she wasn’t going to tell him anything, and he didn't needlessly prod at her for information. He didn't heal her and then rip open her wound again.

She was glad that she decided to choose to stay with him after all.


End file.
